


I Never Wanted This

by Marie_Iliea



Series: Candid Shots [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:10:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Iliea/pseuds/Marie_Iliea
Summary: Spock tracks Kirk down after the Daystrom attack. What he finds is unsettling.





	I Never Wanted This

As he left Starfleet Medical, Spock realized something.

He hadn’t seen Jim Kirk since leaving Daystrom earlier. The Captain — Commander, he reminded himself — should have reported for treatment, but Spock had not observed him.

He returned to the building, stopping at the information panel just inside the door.

“Computer, has—” he paused. After the death of Admiral Pike, Kirk had technically been ‘promoted’ to Acting Captain of the Enterprise, but given the circumstances the computer may not have been made aware of the change. “Computer, has crewmember James T. Kirk of the Enterprise reported for medical treatment in the last five hours?”

“Negative.”

“Is his current location known?”

“Negative.”

Spock frowned infinitesimally. Outside of a Starship or Starbase, where sensors weren’t a default requirement, the real-time locations of individuals were not followed and difficult to establish. Were Kirk’s location influenced by official capacity — if he was in a meeting, hearing, or receiving treatment, for examples — the computer would have known through the scheduling programs. The fact that it was unaware of the Commander’s location indicated that Kirk could be almost anywhere.

Spock was uncertain why he found this situation less than optimal; Kirk was no longer his Captain, and thus it was no longer his responsibility to keep track of Kirk’s wellness and whereabouts.

However some part of him, the part that had almost responded to Kirk stating “I’m going to miss you,” drove him to locate the Commander and check on him one more time.

Though evidence pointed to humans having (somewhat) less intense emotions than Vulcans, humans practically radiated their feelings where Vulcans repressed them. Spock could often feel the existence of another’s emotions simply by standing in close proximity, much as he could feel their body heat. In the same way that he couldn’t determine the body temperature of someone by being near them, he couldn’t make out the specific emotions an individual was experiencing without actually touching them.

Thus, it surprised and concerned him when Kirk’s emotional field simply vanished upon discovering Pike’s death. It had flared for a moment as Kirk had seized his friend and cried into the still chest, but suddenly the tears ceased and everything else did too.

When Kirk’s hand had fallen on his shoulder and squeezed it, through his uniform he managed to sense the turmoil in the Commander’s mind. It was as though a pit had opened up within Kirk’s psyche, sucking everything into it and leaving nothing but emptiness behind.

Spock had to admit to himself, at least, that it was a deeply uncomfortable sensation — and as a telepath, he understood that it did not bode well for Kirk’s state of mind.

No one would blame him for checking up on his former Captain, he decided. It was an entirely logical course of action.

Now to find him.

 

Spock’s primary inclination was to check the local bars for the Commander, but the intensity of recent events led him to wonder if Kirk’s usual method of unwinding would currently apply. When the Enterprise had shore leave, Kirk often found somewhere to drink and someone with whom to spend the night — or part of it — but at those times his emotional field typically pulsed with what Spock decided was either frustration or excitement. Perhaps both.

If Kirk sought company when his emotional state was stimulated, then the complete absence of it would most logically bring on a drive to remain alone. Following that conclusion he headed for the Commander’s quarters — partially expecting to find the man with ‘company’ regardless.

A shuddering sigh greeted his ears upon chiming Kirk’s door, and Spock fully expected to be turned away.

“Come in,” he heard instead, the Commander’s voice lacking any inflection whatsoever, something that disturbed Spock more than he was comfortable with. Kirk was a man who vibrated with emotions; the lack of them was greatly unsettling.

When awake, Kirk had two states of motion: as fast as one could possibly go, and a casual stillness that exuded confidence and surety.

What Spock saw upon entering the room was neither, and the half-Vulcan was very nearly alarmed.

“Commander?” he said, slowly approaching the man.

Kirk was sitting on his bed, absolutely and utterly still. It was not the stillness of confidence, nor was it a stillness born of waiting or relaxation. It was a paralyzed stillness, almost death-like, and Spock had never expected to see Kirk in such a state.

The former Captain turned to look at Spock, the movement almost mechanical. Kirk’s vibrant blue eyes were dull, bloodshot, and partially unfocused. The Vulcan had to repress a sudden urge to summon McCoy.

“Can I ask you a really disgustingly horrible question without you strangling me again?” Kirk asked, looking at but obviously not truly seeing Spock.

Taken aback slightly, the Vulcan settled into a chair by the bed, wondering why Kirk would ask such a question. Once adapted to the man’s unusual phrases, styles of address, and general way of doing things, he’d realized that Kirk actually treated him with a sincere respect and…caring, something Spock was greatly unused to. He’d even apologized profusely for his comments about Amanda.

 

_The door chimed and Spock looked up from his attempt at meditation._

_“Come,” he said with a resignation he kept out of his voice._

_When Kirk entered, Spock began to wish — illogical, but still — that he’d refused the other entry._

_“Yes, Captain?” he’d asked, shifting in preparation to stand._

_“No, stay, if you’re comfortable,” Kirk said, waving him back. “May I sit, actually?” He gestured at the space opposite Spock, who nodded once. “I owe you an apology, Spock. I am so sorry for the things I said to you on the bridge. I keep wishing I’d been able to think of any other way, but I didn’t and I’m sorry.” Spock opened his mouth to speak, but Kirk shushed him. “Wait, lemme finish. I know you loved your mom, Spock. It was painfully obvious, and I hope by saying that I didn’t just insult you somehow. I don’t think anyone has ever or will ever love their mother as much as you loved yours, and she must’ve been a truly wonderful person to have something like that. I’m sorry, and I swear I will never say anything like that again. I wish I hadn’t done it once.”_

_Spock sat in silence for a moment, stunned by Kirk’s speech. His reply of ‘apologies are unnecessary and illogical’ died in his throat, and instead he simply said:_

_“Thank you, Captain.”_

 

“I do not anticipate such an event happening again, Commander,” he said finally. Kirk nodded absently.

“Do you ever feel like — think that — your mother died disappointed in you?” Spock’s heart twisted in his side and he flinched mentally. “I’m sorry,” Kirk said hurriedly, actually looking at Spock directly for the first time. “That came out horribly, completely wrong. I didn’t mean—”

“Commander.” Kirk’s rambling ground to an abashed halt. “Perhaps it would be best if you detailed the circumstances surrounding your question to clarify your meaning.”

Silence reigned for a moment.

“Do you know how I ended up in Starfleet?” Kirk asked finally.

“You were recruited by then Captain Pike,” was the reply.

“D’you know how we met?”

“If rumor is to be believed, in an inebriated state you engaged him in a physical confrontation.” Kirk snorted.

“Nah. The fight wasn’t with him. I was hitting on Uhura, she wasn’t interested but I was being persistent. Hendorff was looking for a fight anyway, and I was a great excuse. Ended up with my hands on her chest at one point — don’t freak out, it actually  _was_  an accident — leading Mr. Cupcake to seriously hand me my ass. Pike broke it up, sent the cadets off, and was probably going to try and talk to me about the legal ramifications of bar fighting.”

“Am I to assume the conversation did not follow the expected pattern?”

“Yeah. Bartender told him who I was, and he said something to me I’ll never forget.” Kirk’s eyes narrowed on Spock’s, the earlier blankness of expression becoming something intense and agonized. “’Your father was Captain of a Starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's — and yours. I dare you to do better.’”

The silence was suffocating, if such a thing were possible. It pressed in on Spock, and though he wasn’t certain what he should say, he decided he had to say something.

“You were Captain of a Starship for one year, three months, two weeks, and six days. Technically you are Acting Captain once more. You saved those who survived the destruction of Vulcan, as well as the entirety of Earth, resulting in a total superceding eight billion people. I believe you have surpassed your father’s legacy.”

“I never wanted to be Captain over Pike’s dead body,” Kirk said softly, his eyes unfocused again, aimed at the wall behind Spock. “My father died a hero. Pike died because I screwed up, but he was a hero too. If I dropped dead right now—” though he wasn’t looking at Spock anymore, he must’ve sensed the Vulcan’s immediate concern, because he smiled ruefully for a moment, “—don’t worry, I’m not planning on driving off a cliff anytime soon. But if I died, I’d die a screw-up, Spock.

“What causes change?” Kirk continued. The apparent non-sequitur surpized Spock enough that he had no response. Kirk didn’t seem to need one. “There’s got to be something that really truly causes change, permanent change. I never changed; I’m the same dumb shit with a freakishly high IQ that Pike convinced to join Starfleet.”

“You stopped Nero—”

“I did what had to be done. That’s always how I’ve been: if it has to be done, do it; if it can be avoided, avoid it; if it’s meaningless, do it and try to have fun. Pike was right to tell me that I wasn’t ready for the chair, and now I’m not certain if I ever will be. I thought I had a life to be proud of, but I was wrong. I haven’t been living the kind of life that I’d want my dad to see if he were alive. I didn’t even want Pike to see it most of the time!” Kirk’s voice choked slightly. “You know what I’d be doing right now if he weren’t dead, Spock? I’d probably be half-dressed with some chick who fell for century-old pickup lines. I think the only reason why I’m not is because anytime I even think of doing something like that I feel sick.”

The emotional field around Kirk was back, but it felt entirely opposite of how Spock usually sensed others. Typically the emotions repelled him, like magnets put like-ends together; this felt like Kirk’s turmoil was sucking everything around it in and crushing it. Kirk spoke again, the biting words fading into a quiet dismay.

“Pike died disappointed in me. I screwed up, I let him down, I embarrassed and upset and hurt him. But he came back for me. I don’t understand it, Spock. He was disappointed, but he fought tooth and nail to give me a second chance. I failed him, and he still came to my rescue.” The red, weary, agonized eyes of Jim Kirk fixed on the calmer brown ones of his former First Officer. “I think I’ve been changed now. I didn’t change, it changed me. I feel different, and I don’t know how to describe any of it. I thought I was a better man. I wanted to be a better man. I thought Starfleet would force that, would change me for me.” Spock’s heart was racing in reaction to Kirk’s distress, the Vulcan struggling madly to keep his outward appearance impassive as everything the young man was feeling bled copiously from his eyes.

“I never wanted Pike to die for it to happen.”

Spock was beginning to understand the motivation behind Kirk’s ineptly worded question.

“Jim,” he said softly, bracing himself for the still-fresh pain of loss that would come with sharing this particular memory, “Vulcans have a cultural practice known as Kolinar. It is the purging of all emotion, becoming a creature of absolute logic. I once sought to master this practice, but before doing so I approached my mother to make sure that she did not see my actions as a rejection of her or a judgment upon her.” Kirk watched him with curious interest, the emotion a temporary balm over the roiling hurt within him. “She told me something which I will never forget: ‘Whatever you choose to be, you will have a proud mother.’” He paused, hesitating before offering his next thought. “I am certain that Admiral Pike, and your father, were he alive, would have a similar sentiment regarding you.”

Kirk’s mouth worked for a minute, lost for words for the first time since Spock had met him. His gaze wandered around the room, mouth still half-open before he finally looked at Spock again.

“Thanks.”

The simple reply was magnified by the significantly less anguished expression on Kirk’s face. The emotional maelstrom ebbed somewhat, and a very human instinct told Spock that Kirk needed to be alone. Spock inclined his head in reply before rising gracefully.

“Should you have further need of a ‘listening ear,’ I have excellent hearing,” Spock said. At the door he stopped, turning to look at the still-seated Commander/Acting Captain. “And I respectfully suggest that you report to Medical for an examination. It would be most unfortunate if you became unwell.”

Kirk didn’t answer, studying the wall again absently as Spock left. The raging ache he felt had eased somewhat, its strength lessened by the fact that Spock of all people thought Pike and his father would’ve been proud of him. The loss still burned, however, and Kirk was still sitting on the bed, fighting the flames in his heart when Scotty summoned him.

Hurt could be handled later. Khan had to be dealt with now.

**Author's Note:**

> These don't have to all be read, or read in order, but please make an author happy and check out the whole series.


End file.
